The Silver Dragon
by TheFourthDragonHead
Summary: Aerion was born weak and sick. Found by Varys the spider, he was trained in deciet and politics. Although a weak one he has a good heart. It will be his downfall. But from the ashes of his broken body a Dragon will rise. Enter The Dragon. Enter Aerion Targaryen
1. Frail and Dull

Varys looked around the black and grey walls of Dragon Stone almost admiring the architecture of the castle. His steps were silent and his nose could smell the dried blood of the Targaryen loyalists that refused to surrender when Stannis came to put the former late Queen Rhaella and prince Viserys to Steel. Unfortunately for Stannis and Robert Baratheon, Viserys and his new born sister had escaped with the help of Ser Willem Darry.

He had many eyes but he had none in Dragon Stone so he came to see if he could find anything worth finding and find something he did. He heard a soft faint cry in the castle. The castle was empty besides Varys so the cry couldn't be some stranger wandering around. As Varys grew closer to the sound he could tell which door it was coming from. It was obvious is that it indeed was a cry and it sounded like babe. He opened the door slowly and what he saw shocked him.

A little frail baby was halfway stuck in the corpse of the original Queen Rhaella. The baby was a Targaryen but it had greying dull hair that seemed as ragged as a horse tail and its eyes were mismatched with violet on one eye and milky white on the other. It's body was so tiny and frail it was a wonder that it got stuck. Varys pulled the cry baby out of its mother's bloodied hole and examined it further.

Now that it's sex was physical apparent he could That the babe was a boy. A future king perhaps Varys thought to himself. The babe would never lead armies into battle and may even never see his first name day. The babe was sweaty and heating up fast. It's chances of survival were slim to none. But something in Varys mind told him to try and give the child a chance. And so he made his decision. "Welcome to the world my prince. Aerion Targaryen second of his name."


	2. Aerion The Weak

Aerion Targaryen dreamt of himself as a tall strong knight in shining armor of his house colors with long flowing silver hair and violet eyes. He dreamt of himself fighting for justice atop a white warhorse that only made him seem taller. In his dreams they would sing songs of him and praise him while his brother Viserys ruled the Kingdoms.

In his dream he was close to the siblings he had never met. He would dream of a kind brotherly smile dressed in black and red silks with a crown atop the head and a beautiful twin sister who loved him very much. He would ride from town to town spreading happiness and righting wrongs. He would make a name for himself like Aerion the tall or Aerion the strong.

He dreamt that he would bring back the dragons. The creatures that had served his house and died out because of them. He dreamt of a large silver dragon bigger than Balerion the black dread with violet eyes like amethysts. He dreamt of this dragon so much that it seemed as if sometimes he was the dragon. And when he became the dragon it breathed the green flames of wildfire.

But then he awoke with a thin sheet of sweat on his face. He was no longer Aerion the strong or tall. He no longer had the long flowing silver hair or the beautiful violet eyes. He was Aerion the weak, a sickly boy frail and short, with grey ragged hair and grossly mismatched eyes. As he got up he began to hoarsely cough. He grabbed his handkerchief and coughed into it. When his fit of a cough stopped he looked at the piece of cloth felt himself slightly tremble. The handkerchief was covered in blood.

Aerion was sickly ever since he was born and he knew it. The Maesters told him he would likely never see his twentieth name day. He wished that if the gods wanted to take him that they would just do it instead of giving him a short life with no family and gross coloring. As he got up from his bed he put on his clothes, a simple leather tunic and breeches.

A knock from the door was heard and he allowed them to enter. In walked the spider Varys, the man who named him and raised him. Aerion was grateful of the man and knew without him he would have died before his first weekend living. "Aerion, I thought you would be up."

"I couldn't stay in bed all day not after coughing up enough blood for to fill a newborn." Aerion said coldly.

"Don't be afraid. The Maesters said you would never reach your first name day but here you are at the age of sixteen." Varys said presenting Aerion like a proud prince. "Come we have much work to do with the arrival of the new hand."

Aerion had forgotten about the Northman, Eddard Stark, who had recently arrived yesterday with his family and guard. So far he had only seen the hand once and he was not of importance as it was Varys the Lord Stark was talking to.

Aerion was Varys manservant and student. He pours the mans wine, writes his letters and learn the game of court and how utterly fucking ridiculous it can be. Often times he could tell when someone was lying and when their intentions are true as he grew up on the bad end of lies and jests when he played with other children in his childhood.

The game of court was simple, just look out for yourself. A lot of the times he would scribe for Varys so he would catch wind of the King's decisions and orders and often times he would find himself making those decisions in his head as if he was the king but that would only lead to him fantasizing about being a great Targaryen King who was good, strong and fair.

"Aerion did you hear me?" Varys asked as Aerion stared off into space. They were in Varys office and Aerion was simply awaiting his orders.

"No, my apologies." Aerion said cursing himself for dozing off again.

"Forgiven. I said that you are to squire for the hand of the king. I need a good ear next him and your perspective skills fit the position perfectly." Varys said.

Aerion didn't want to be a squire, it wasn't that he didn't want the duties that came with it just that he didn't seem himself worthy of the title of knight if he ever became one. He was a weak boy with only a smart mind and spying abilities. But he obeyed as he was never one to refuse the spider.

That night he had another dream of a Dragon that breathed flames of Wildfire. With scales as silver as a ladies bobbles and and eyes that burned violet. The flames of green Wildfire was always a trait with the dragon from his dreams.

Upon Aerion's awake he coughed again into his handkerchief and saw more blood on it. Aerion felt like he was running out of time or something but quickly pushed those thoughts aside. If he was going to die then the last thing he wanted to worry about was his health. He had worried about that all his life and now he was simply tired of it.

When he entered the hands solar he was greeted kindly and curtly. "So you are Aerion Waters." The hand said as he held out a handshake for the boy.

Aerion Waters was a pseudonym Incase the usurper or any of his dogs asked him his name. So far it worked but the man before him held a kind smile but saw a slight worry in his eyes. "Yes I am, your hand."

"I had heard of your odd coloring but to see it in person…" Lord Eddard said regarding to Aerion's dull grey hair and his one milky white eye. "Anyways, it matters not. You are my squire and one day you may be a knight. I will not dishonor you in anyway while you are my squire."

Aerion felt a pang of guilt as this was all so the spider can have an ear close to the newly appointed hand. "Thank you m'lord." And so his duties as squire began.

Most the time it was fetching a book, writing his letters, pouring him what little wine he drank and fetching for his youngest daughter named Arya. She was a wild girl who didn't like to be told anything by anyone but she was kind to Aerion. She had state numerous times that he looked very closely similar to her bastard brother Jon Snow. Aerion thought little of it as she was just a child still.

Then he met the hands oldest daughter. Sansa Stark. She was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen in King's Landing and anywhere else for that matter. Her hair was red like fire and her eyes icy blue like the sky on a clear day. But she was indifferent to him. At first Aerion blamed his short stature and his weak body along with his ugly coloring but Arya told him it had something to do with his bastard status.

Aerion would curse the spider for choosing him such a dishonorable last name as a cover. He imagined that in another life where he was a tall handsome Targaryen prince with flowing silver hair and violet eyes, where the usurper never rose in rebellion, that they were betrothed. But all he could do was imagine. In reality he was Aerion the weak. And he felt the call of Wildfire in his head again.


	3. Aerion The Squire

It had been a few weeks into Aerion's duty squire that he stood behind Lord Stark as he stood before the Small Council. Occasionally the spider would throw him a couple of side glances to make sure he was keeping the act up. But Aerion wasn't paying attention to Varys. He had his weak fists clenched as with as much little strength as he had to stop him trying to kill the king.

"The Whore is pregnant!" Robert Baratheon bellowed. Aerion felt so powerless and weak. They were discussing the asassination of his twin. The twin that didn't even know he existed. But right now before him was Robert Baratheon insulting his twin and talking about her as if she was the one who raped Lyanna Stark and killed Rickard and Brandon Stark.

Aerion could end it all right now, all he had to do was take the dagger that rested in his belt and plunge it into Robert Baratheon's throat. Avenge his older brother, avenge his mother, avenge his mad father, and save his twin sister and her unborn child. But of course he remembered who he was again. Aerion the weak. Aerion the sickly craven dragon.

The sound of a metal object being tossed onto the table brought him out of his thoughts. The hand had thrown his pin to the table of the small council. Lord Stark simply quit being that hand and turned to leave. Aerion followed and heard the king bellow. "Go run back to Winterfell! I'll have your head on a spike!"

When they reached the Lord Stark's solar Eddard told him. "I'm sorry I couldn't give a knighthood. I will recommend you to another Lord or knight before I return to Winterfell."

Aerion felt as if he owed his life to the man. He openly defied the king when they had all agreed to assassinate his twin and now he still feels as though he should be owed a knighthood. "There is no need Lord Stark. I will likely never see the next winter." Aerion said solemnly. "Squiring was a vain attempt at becoming something I will never be."

Lord Stark looked at the boy with pity and sadness. He had seen that same Look time and time again on his own bastard Jon. The sullen look of the Targaryens. "If there is anything I can do to help you do not hesitate to ask." Lord Stark said as placed a hand on the boys shoulder.

"I was born like this. I will accept my fate and hope the next life is more welcoming. Where there is no sorrow or strife, only tales of good and a land where summer never ends." Aerion said with hopeful mismatched eyes.

"One could only hope. I pray you find what your looking for." Lord Stark said.

Aerion gave a solemn nod and left the tower of the hand. He would never see this kind man again nor would he lay eyes upon his beautiful daughter or converse with his new friend Arya again who saw Aerion as a kind boy cursed by the gods. Aerion Waters The squire was gone again and now Aerion Targaryen the weak was back.

Unfortunately he caught wind of Jaime Lannister and a group of Lannister soldiers going take the Hand's head if he did not give up the Kingslayer's younger brother back. Aerion heard about the Lady Catelyn Stark taking Tyrion Lannister as her prisoner to the Eyrie to stand trial. Aerion knew Tyrion and liked the dwarf. Many times he had treated him with kindness and friendship. But he now Tyrion's brother was likely going to try and kill Lord Stark.

Aerion did not know what drove him to run so fast down the streets of King's Landing. His lungs burned and his weak legs felt like they would snap with the amount of force he was using to run. Finally he saw the dead Stark Guards and Lord Stark fighting Jaime Lannister surrounded by a squad of Lannister guard.

Aerion watched as Lord Stark and Jaime Lannister danced with Steel swords. Parrying left and right one advancing and the other defending. The sound of steel smashing against steel rang in the air and Aerion watched with envy as Lord Stark was gaining the upper hand. He wished he could be that strong and good with a sword. Jaime Lannister looked dumbfounded as he was losing to an old man.

Then a Lannister guard readied his spear. Aerion watched in slow motion. The Lannister pulled his spear back in anticipation for the thrust that go through Lord Stark. The man who had treated him as someone worthy of Knighthood, who had liked him, and did not see him as a false bastard or Aerion the weak. Aerion used his sudden rush of adrenaline to try to push the spear out of the man's grasp in time.

But he slipped on his last step and the spear plunged right into Aerion. His vision went black and all he could see was the silver dragon breath fumes of wildfire.


	4. The Pain Of Fire

Aerion woke with pain in his side. An excruciating pain that did not stop. It pulsed and throbbed And would not go away. No matter how hard he gritted his blood soaked teeth or squeezed the bedding it wouldn't go away. Until someone had pour a vile of liquid down his throat that eased and gave him relief.

Milk of the poppy. He knew the taste as he was prone to injury because of his frail body. He opened his eyes and saw Lord Stark and Varys standing over him. Lord Stark had a look of worry on his face and Varys simply seemed disappointed. "Damn it boy! You should have just let the spear run me through, you were no longer my squire you owed me nothing!" Lord Stark said sadly.

Aerion looked up at the Lord and said. "I did Lord Stark. You game me hope in myself. I owe you more than you could ever think." Aerion couched and blood leaked out of his throat and onto the sheets. "Damn. How bad is it?"

"The spear pierced your organs and shards of the spear are still in you." Varys said. "It's a wonder your still alive."

"How long do I have left." Aerion asked with weakness in his voice.

"I'm sorry Aerion. You may only live through the night. The milk of the poppy is working but not for long." Varys said the look of disappointment on his face still had not left.

"Lord Stark could you leave us please." Aerion asked.

"Whatever you need Aerion." Lord Stark placed a hand on Aerion's shoulder and turned to Varys. "Please notify me if anything happens to the boy Varys." And Lord Stark left.

Varys looked at him with such disappointment at that moment and shook his head. "What were you thinking Aerion. Do you know how important your life is. You're the crown prince how could you be such a fool."

"I'm not the crown-" he sat up to quickly and winced in pain. "I'm not that crowned prince. Viserys still is."

Varys shook his head again. "Viserys is dead. Killed by your twin sister's new husband and now the King's bounty will surely get your sister killed as well." Varys sighed in defeat. "And so the great Targaryen dynasty will cease to exist."

Aerion couldn't believe he was so careless, so dumb, all the spider's lessons for nothing. Aerion swallowed the lump in his throat and fought back the tears. "Varys. Can you grab me the vile in my drawer." Aerion pointed to the drawer across the room by his desk.

When Varys opened the drawer he had a look of shock on his face. Varys reached in and pulled the small vile out of the drawer. The glass was warm to the touch and almost hot. The contents of the vile was green and thick. "Wildfire?"

"I had it there in case Robert Baratheon ever found out what my surname really was. I would not let the usurper have my head as he had the bodies of my niece and nephew wrapped in Lannister cloaks." Aerion said reaching for the vile that Varys held in his hand.

Varys reluctantly gave Aerion the vile and said. "So you choose to die like the first Aerion Targaryen. Mad and violent. You would choose the route of insanity instead of a less painful death?" Varys asked not getting why Aerion wanted this.

"At least I would go out a Targaryen. I would be something else in my final hours other than Aerion the weak." Aerion said now holding the vile of wildfire in his hand.

"You were never Aerion the weak my prince. You are Aerion Targaryen second of his name the rightful King of the Andals and the first men, the rhoyanar, lord of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm" Varys said with a bow. And so his mentor and caretaker left his room. Now he was alone.

Aerion looked at the flask in his hands and uncorked the vile. He could smell the fumes and felt the heat radiating from the substance. He finally put the vile to his lips and drank the wildfire like wine. Slowly sipping the volatile substance and finally swallowing. He felt a sudden burst of absolute, immense pain. He could see green flames sprouting from his mouth before everything turned black. Deep in the darkness he heard the roar of a dragon.


	5. A Dragon Is Born

It had not been five minutes since Varys left Aerion with the flask of wildfire when he heard the sound that would forever burn in his mind. A large sound of cracking and falling stone then the sound of a roar. A roar so loud the spider's rang. People screamed in terror and ran away. He turned back and saw the source of such a great disturbance. A large scourge of wildfire engulfed Aerion's house causing smoke to billow into the air and volatile fumes to fill the air. But the great blaze wasn't what caught Vary's eyes.

It was the shadow of the creature he could see atop the wildfire. It was the shadow of a dragon and from the looks of how big the shadow was it seemed to be as big as a castle. The smoke cleared slightly and he could see silver scales and great big lilac eyes. The smoke was billowed as the wings of the dragon extended and flapped with such great force Varys nearly fell over. Two more thunderous flaps and it took flight to the air. Then it was gone and just like that a dragon was born into the world.

Varys didn't know how it was possible but he knew Aerion was that dragon. Aerion the weak was dead. But Aerion the dragon was born.


	6. Enter the Dragon

**The Dragon**

The world around Aerion was too loud, too many colors, too many smells, too many people. So he used his vast silver wings and took to the sky. The sky was where he belonged despite the heat of the sun on his scales or the sharp wind running through his many spikes. Something in his head screamed go east so he shifted his large body in the opposite direction of the sunset.

He flew through the air like a hot knife through butter. Could there ever be such a more peaceful place than high above the clouds? The answer was no, there was only him and him alone up here. Aerion had never known such peace. In his old life he was a weak babe born to a house name to great to hold onto his frail shoulders. Now he was the very thing all his family wish they could be.

When Aerion finally felt himself grow tired he glided down to the land below him. It was a desert, a vast lonely desert but he found a large mountain where he might roost. And so he landed atop the large mountain, curled himself into his spiked tail and closed his large violet eyes. Soon enough sleep found him and drifted him away.

When the sun made its way to the blue sky again he opened his eyes. Only to find that he no longer had wings and scales only large muscular arms and skin. Aerion sat himself up and realized he was as nude as the day he was born only this time not stuck in his mother's womb. Upon awaking he ran a hand through his hair that never grew past ears and found that he had a long mane of flowing silver hair.

In fact when he stood up he could see that his whole body had changed. His shoulders were insanely broad and muscular, his flat skinny stomach was replaced with abs that seemed to be carved by a myrish artist, his jaw felt hard as stone and insanely chiseled, his legs were long and muscular instead of short and frail, even his manhood had grown twice the size. Instead of just bearing the name Targaryen now he was the image of one. A tall muscular man with long silver hair and violet eyes.

But then he remembered that he was on top of a steep mountain with no way for him to climb down. There was no way he was getting down. Unless he flew, if he could turn into a dragon once then he could do it again. Unfortunately Aerion sat in the desert son for many hours trying to do so with no luck. Aerion tried using pain to change which only resulted in him finding out his skin was almost as hard as the scales of a dragon to what extent he didn't dare test. Then Aerion attempted simply jumping into the air thinking he'd change but that didn't work either.

Finally he started to meditate. Thinking of flight. Thinking of fire. Thinking of scales. Thinking of spikes. Then he was engulfed in a great flame of wildfire. The wildfire burned and fried everything within two feet until finally a dragon was born again. Aerion was large, bigger than the Red Keep maybe.

His scales were clean and sleek. His spikes like a thousand pikes and his wings vast and strong. His teeth bigger than any sword. Aerion roared and felt the ground rumble under him. Finally he extended his wings and took flight. The powerful thunderclap of wings were heard and he was free again. He could go anywhere he wanted. He could do anything he wanted. He could fly to the Red Keep and take the Iron Throne. He could fly to Valyria and find the secrets of his lost people or he could fly to his twin.

At the thought of his twin he became sad. She would likely die from the usurpers assassins. All because she was born Daenerys Targaryen. He wished he knew where she was otherwise he would have all ready been there. He would have protected her like he should have. Aerion yearned for his lost twin, the sister he shared a womb with and was separated from.

Aerion's sadness was replaced by an anger that burned like hot oil in his veins. He will find her no matter the cost. No matter the sacrifice, no matter how many lives he had to take, no matter who he had to turn to ash. Aerion made a vow to himself in his mind, to find the lost twin before she dies, if only to hold her for a second, if only to hear her voice for a moment. He will find her. And they will take what is their with fire and blood.

(A/N) sorry for the long wait everyone I hit writers block and minor laziness I hope this chapter and the next make up for it.


	7. Twin Found

**The Lost Twin**

Daenerys felt him again. The sickly boy from her dreams all those years ago. He had felt so lost before, so distant, reaching out for a half of himself that was no longer there. She could remember him from her dreams, thin and frail, mismatched eyes, and grey ratty hair. He didn't looked to be a Targaryen but she knew he was from the same stock as she was. But something now was different.

He was closer somehow. More closer than ever. And he wasn't the same boy. When she could see him in her dreams he was taller than any man she had ever seen, his body was built like a bull in its prime, his hair was a mane of silver, and his eyes were like two amethysts. But then sometimes the boy would burn away in green flames and become a shroud Of silver scales and spikes as big as a mountain. It would look at her with those massive fiery purple eyes and just stare. Then she heard the roar

She awoke with a startle gasp and heard the sound of the alarm bells that littered the city of Meereen.

She was still in her night gown and the cold night air bit her skin but she was determined to see what was happening. From the balcony of her palace she could see the Unsullied and the Second Son's moving in force. Something was coming. There was no moon and there were too many clouds in the sky to see past the darkness outside the city walls.

But then all noise was deafened by the sound of an unholy thunderous roar. It wasn't Drogon, Drogon wasn't that guttural and dreadful. The wind rapidly increased as the sound of massive wings were heard. Each flap was like a gust of wind from a hurricane. Finally a green streak of light could be seen far from the walls of the city. But then the light turned into a violent fury as more of the green light was spewed. More and more. Fire, so hot it burns green.

Now that there was a green inferno illuminating the sky she could see the source lit by its own fire. It was a dragon, far bigger than Drogon, Rhaegal, or Viserion. The largest she had ever seen or heard of. A horse could ride into its jaws and not even touch the teeth. The dragon roared again deafening Daenerys again but it sounded pained, almost sickly. "It's him." Daenerys said.

The dragon seemed like it was on a collision course for the gates but then it's fire died out, and it's massive wings seized to flap and let out a dying guttural moan. The dragon landed outside the city and made an earthquake that shook the bones of the earth.

She could see the torches of Unsullied and Second Sons all converging on the dragon. They might kill it, they might kill him. Daenerys and a tenure of her guard including Ser Barristan made their way to the gates of Meereen. Ser Barristan was trying to convince her that it was to dangerous and the dragon could awake at any moment. When the gates opened and they could see the small candle lights of torches around the mountain of scales and fire Ser Barristan pleaded again. "My Queen you may be the mother of dragons but I beg you to stay inside the city gates. We do not know what this is."

"It's a dragon." Daenerys said without taking her eyes off the massive form. "And I've known this one before." She approached with caution slowly. The Unsullied and Second Sons all cleared out of the way and watched. She barely fifteen yards away and already she could hear it's hot breath. He's alive. She crept closer and closer. Finally Daenerys was so close that she could touch the large teeth that were almost as big as her. She reached her hand out and touched it on the nose.

She could feel it's heart thumping like a war drum but it felt like it was failing. She made her way around the side of his head to look into his eyes. When Daenerys could see his closed eye lids she waited for the dragon to open them. After a brief moment the dragon opened its large eyes and stared directly into Daenerys. Violet eyes stared into massive violet iris's. The large pupils grew large at sight of her and a familiar bond came between them.

Then the dragon reared it's massive head and roared. The Unsullied and Second Sons brought out there weapons and pointed them at the dragon. Daenerys panicked and tried calming her soldiers but they were to tense and to afraid of the beast in front of them. But something happened before anyone could attack. The dragon's head fell back down to the ground with a loud bang and ceased to move. The scales slowly chipped away and floated in the air and the skin peeled away and burned in a green flame. The fire was so bright and hot that the sandy ground started turning into glass. The skin was gone before anyone could make sense of what was happening and the bones turned to ash soon enough. Daenerys watched in horror as the dragon just burned away. She cried and let the salty tears drift down her cheeks.

But then the mound of ash started to churn and shift. Daenerys still crying watched as a hand shot out from the ash. A tall muscular man with a mane of silver hair and violet eyes pulled himself out from the ash. He was on his hands and knees vomiting green liquid fire that dissolved the ground it touched. He looked around at the soldiers until his eyes landed on Daenerys. It was like he was looking at a goddess, his violet eyes were unmoving and full of wonder. But suddenly his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body fell to the ground.

A single name was burning in Daenerys mind. A name that she had never heard before but had always known. "Aerion."


End file.
